


Friendly Haunting

by TheAlwaysUsedTeaBag



Series: A friendly ghost [1]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ghost John, Ghost John Laurens, M/M, first lams fic and ive no idea if this is any good??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-26
Updated: 2018-01-26
Packaged: 2019-03-09 20:19:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13489008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAlwaysUsedTeaBag/pseuds/TheAlwaysUsedTeaBag
Summary: A ghost who doesn't realise he is a ghost and only sees strangers without a face. He's been dead for quite some time, but then this man moves into his home, with no face like all the ones before him, but then he stays, and things change.





	Friendly Haunting

A storm was brewing in the distance, thunder rolling and lightning running over the sky. John Laurens sat quietly in front of a desk, a pathetic stump of a candle sitting atop it, a quill in hand, ink dried and old, hovering just above the desk, where once a paper had laid, a dried ink stain stuck upon the desk below the quill. John watched the clouds slowly roll over his home, the thunder roaring and the lightning jerking across the sky ever closer. He slowly set the quill down onto the desk, pushing himself up and leaving the room, the door closed shut behind him. He wandered through the dark hallways of his home. There were no lights, they burned out a long time ago. He kept wandering until he reached his bedroom, and lay down in the bed. All stains that had been here had been removed by faceless entities. He lay down in the bed, not a crinkle in the sheets. He could scarcely find sleep, he couldn't find rest. Something kept tugging, keeping him restless, and he couldn't comprehend what it was.

Certainly, he wasn't prepared to get a visitor, no less a roommate.

It startled him greatly as another faceless entity entered his home, even more so when he realised this one was there to stay. He started the day, rather the night as he peculiarly only ever awoke as the night begun, as he always had. He got up from the bed and wandered through the house, through its dark hallways, and here lay the first curiosity. The hallways weren't dark. He scarcely noticed it at first, but then they were turned back off, which he was startled by. With confusion, he carried along, creeping through the hallway. His stomach began itching, as it usually did in the evenings, and his lip began to quiver and tremble as he spotted a light coming from the room at the end of the hallway, a sliver of light passing through the crack of the door. John carefully approached the door and he cautiously entered the room, for once able to push the door open. It seemed he startled the figure inside as much as he had startled him. He yelped and took several steps back, as did the faceless entity in front of him. The entity kept moving its head, as if looking for something, then, finally, calmed down and turned back around, fixated on the desk, his desk, as it used a fountain pen, not a quill, to hastily scribble something into an otherwise empty book with blank pages. John slowly approached the entity again. He knew from past experience that they meant no harm to him, even if they had cleaned stains from his home he didn't want them to. But this entity sat in _his_ chair, at _his_ desk and he could hardly not feel offended. This was where _he_ always sat. He stepped closer to the entity and pulled the chair out from under them, and the entity fell to the ground with a yelp from no mouth. The entity looked around, but John continued with his tantrum and threw the book to the ground as well as he pushed it off the desk.

Then he stopped himself. Perhaps he shouldn't have acted this way. He felt regret and he picked up the book from the ground, and he gently put it back onto the desk. He shouldn't have reacted this badly in the first place. When the entity stood up again, he pushed the chair in its direction, and the entity's eyeless stare was fixated on it for a second, then moved around the room, before it decided it would sit down on it. John was glad the entity took the apology. He noticed how he entity had replaced the stump of a candle with something else, something foreign to him, but it functioned as a much brighter lightsource than his candle ever had. It never seemed to burn out either, John noticed with amazement, didn't even flicker. He noticed how this entity spent hours slaving over the book. And if it wasn't doing that, he noticed over the next few days, the entity was filling page after page of something else. John attempted to read them, but the entity always put them just away from the light enough that he couldn't decipher them.

As the days passed on, he found that the faceless entity didn't remain faceless. After two days, it had eyes, piercing and concentrated eyes, hungry and intelligent, the mind behind them going at incredible speeds as its hands could only barely keep up in jotting each thought down, perfectly articulated. John found that, much like himself, this entity only seemed to wake for the evening and the night, and it headed to bed at the exact hour as he would, heading into his bed, and he decided he would join it. He slept next to the entity, watching it sometimes until the sun began to rise and he was forced into a restless sleep, only to reawaken in the evening. He enjoyed the entity's company, even though it couldn't speak. Or perhaps it couldn't speak yet. It gained a nose two days after it gained eyes, and it gained ears to days after that, and finally, it gained a mouth two days after that. Finally, its face was complete, and another day later, its body got features as well. In the end, John noticed, that the entity wasn't really that at all. It- he- he was a simple human, almost just like him. John's gaze wandered over the body of this man, kept getting lost in his eyes, though they were never focused on him intentionally. Sometimes this man would stare at the wall across the room if John had moved anything. The man would stare, frightened. But John didn't think he had to stop moving things around. They were his possessions after all, he could move them as he pleased and saw fit. But over time, he stopped, as he noticed how this man seemed to lose sleep over it.

John liked this man. He liked him a lot. At some point, he found out, through another faceless entity which wasn't there to stay but merely to visit the man, that his name was Alexander. He liked the way the name rolled off his tongue. He liked how it was the first word he had spoken in quite a while. He didn't like how Alexander jumped when John had said his name. Alexander, after some time, seemed to be becoming used to John's antics in their home - it was strange for John to call it their home, but it made him somehow happy. A few times afterwards, more faceless entities came to visit and talked to him, always during the evening, for some reason. Their talking was always very animated, but some time it became aggressive. It was when only one faceless entity had come to visit, an entity Alexander didn't seem to be friendly with or like at all. Why Alexander had let the entity come into their home John couldn't understand. The faceless entity then became physical with Alexander, who didn't seem scared in the slightest and fought back with more aggression than his attacker. As the entity got a good punch at Alexander, John lost it. He used all his power to push the attacker back and onto the ground, giving Alexander enough time to recover from the punch and glare at the entity with venomous anger and yelled at it to get out, which it did, scrambling to its feet and practically running out of the house.

After that Alexander had made himself something hot to drink and, to John's confusion, had made another drink. Alexander sat down the second drink on the small table that was placed between the couch an an opposing armchair, closer to the armchair than to the couch. It was hot chocolate in the cup on the table. John looked at it confused.

"I... I think I know you're here... I don't know who you are but... You know, thanks for pushing that asshole off of me... Fuck, this feels weird..." Alexander laughed nervously. John looked at him oddly.

"Well... Um... S-sit down if you're not already sitting..." Alexander said and John did as asked. "The uh... The cocoa is for you too if... you know, you can drink it or... um..."

John chuckled, unaware that Alexander perceived his chuckle as a dark clicker that he could only barely perceive and could comprehend even less. Alexander shrunk back into his sea and John flinched back when he saw this. John quietly took hold of the cup and picked it up. Alexander's eyes widened in an odd mixture of fear and excitement.

"I knew it! I knew this place is haunted!" he exclaimed and John's brows rose in surprise.

"Haunted?... _Haunted_?! What are you talking about _haunted_?" John asked out loud, his voice sounding like aggressive clicking and cackling to Alexander who flinched back.

"Woah, calm down! I... Um... Uh, you spilled the uh... the cocoa... I'll just go and clean this up..." Alexander sighed and ran a hand through his hair as he stood up and hushed into the kitchen to retrieve a wet rag and bent down to clean up the mess John had made. John felt bad for it and decided he'd take the rag and clean up the cocoa from the ground himself, muttering apologies, his voice like a soft purr to Alexander. Alexander smiled as the rag moved like by itself to clean the stain on the floor. Alexander wasn't quite sure what he was supposed to think about this. He had a ghost in his home. A friendly ghost it seemed. He counted himself quite lucky.

After this incident, Alexander made it a habit to make hot cocoa for John and leave it somewhere, where John made it a habit to clean up after some of the messes Alexander made. He noticed as well that he could stay awake for a lot longer. He stayed conscious during the day as well. Though, more often than not he chose not to stay awake, as Alexander wasn't home and he would find himself too lonely to want to stay awake. But he noticed that Alexander woke up much too early for going to bed so late. It worried him because he knew, from experience, that that was not at all healthy. He decided, at some point, he needed this to change.

And so he began to just lock the door to the office. Alexander had the key, of course, after all he had bought the house, but John always locked it anyways. And as he found that this did nothing he added onto it. He began to hide Alexander's papers all over the house, however this only resulted in Alexander getting to bed even later. Then he decided enough was enough. He spilled ink, his old ink, onto the desk just before Alexander wanted to start working. Alexander yelped and jumped off the chair, glaring next to the desk, just about John's height.

"What was that for?!" he yelped loudly and John began drawing in the ink. He was writing something and Alexander looked on intrigued.

"Go to... 'Go to sleep'? What are you talking about? I have work to do, you know- 'I'm worried'- worried? Why are you worried? 'No sleep is bad for you'- I know no sleep is bad for me, but I do sleep, I'm good!" Alexander scoffed and John groaned. Alexander crossed his arms and rolled his eyes, grabbing some tissues and going to clean the worst of the ink.

"You don't even have to worry about me, I get enough sleep," Alexander said and John immediately wanted to protest, "Wow, this ink must be at least two hundred years old... How old are you?"

"I have no idea. I didn't even know I was dead until you pointed it out," John simply replied, knowing that Alexander wouldn't be able to hear him. But when he looked up, he saw Alexander staring at him, really at him, with wide, shocked eyes. Alexander jumped and flinched back, his behind hitting the desk behind him.

"You..." Alexander stuttered, "I can... Are you?!"

John hummed in confusion, then suddenly realized what was happening.

"Wait, you can see me?!" John exclaimed, taking a step back in shock.

"I... I can... I can see you... I can see you! Wow, this is you? Holy shit, what _happened_ to you?!" Alexander pointed at John's stomach, which John only now noticed, had a huge, bleeding bullet wound ripping open some of his stomach.

"Huh... I never noticed before..." John mumbled. Alexander laughed.

"How did you never notice that? That wound is _gaping_!" Alexander smiled nervously.

"I suppose... I suppose that's how I died then..." John muttered but then he grinned, "But this won't change a thing."

"I mean, yeah, what would it change?"Alexander smiled.

"Alexander, go to bed. Right now. I will not let you work like this tonight. You will got to bed, right now," John simply replied. Alexander scoffed.

"I need to get this done today, though!" Alexander reasoned.

"No, you don't, I know you don't. I heard those talks you had with these people visiting. They said you need to stop working so much, and I agree. Go to bed, now," John stood his ground, "Go to bed or I'll lock the office and steal your key. You know I can and you know I will!"

Alexander grumbled, but he knew John wasn't kidding. He did go to bed much earlier that night than he had ever gone. John headed to bed as well, lying down next to Alexander and subconsciously cuddled into him due to habit, unaware that Alexander could feel all of his touches now. Alexander couldn't get sleep that night, for a completely unrelated reason.


End file.
